


the state of dreaming

by cryoreal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jonsa Exchange, Mild Smut, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryoreal/pseuds/cryoreal
Summary: Jon finds out, to his dismay, that Sansa is a huge fan of holidays that normal people usually ignore.My work for the holiday round of the Jonsa exchange!





	1. March 14 - Pi Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ritzintherabbithole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritzintherabbithole/gifts).



> For @ritzintherabbithole on tumblr, who I really hope enjoys this story. If you want to avoid the smut, skip the last chapter!

Jon opened the door to a blast of warmth, a myriad of smells, and the sound of the oven beeping incessantly.

Sansa’s back was to him, standing at the counter with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She was humming something under her breath quietly while her arms stretched over the countertops again and again, a pie crust taking form underneath her watchful eye.

“Are you hosting a small army for dessert tonight?” he teased her gently, taking in their small table, which was already covered in four pies of various flavors.

“It’s Pie Day!” Sansa sang out, pulling a ceramic pie dish closer to her dough, and Jon’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Pie Day?”

“It’s March 14, which is Pi Day. So I’m making pie!”

“What on earth are we going to do with all this pie?” Jon asked stupidly. He would get ridiculously fat if she kept this up. 

“Well, I’m giving one to Robb, two to Mom and Dad, one to Marg, one to Theon, and I figured we’d keep one for ourselves. What’s your favorite pie flavor?”

She rattled that all off so quickly that Jon had a hard time keeping up, and it took him a moment longer than socially appropriate to respond. “Blueberry, probably, but I don’t think they’re in season right now, so…”

“No worries! We keep some frozen. I’ll make that one next.” She beamed at him over her shoulder, where she was scraping apple filling into her crust with a spatula. “And don’t touch those ones on the table or I’ll have your head.”

“Yes, my queen,” Jon bowed to her on the way out of the kitchen, her tinkling laugh following him as he traipsed to the backyard to play with Ghost. 

Three hours later, Jon tiptoed back into the kitchen to find Sansa half covered in flour, pulling the last of the pies from the oven. 

“Shit, Sansa, that looks delicious.” 

She pushed a few strands of hair out of her face, the pie resting carefully on the stovetop. “You think so? I hope they’re good.” 

“I can’t imagine anything you bake not turning out well,” he told her conspiratorially, and she giggled quietly.

“Can you help me drop them off? I want everyone to still be in the spirit of Pi Day but I can’t carry them all myself.”

They loaded her five pies into his backseat carefully, and when Sansa folded herself into his passenger seat he tried not to stare at how delicate she looked with her legs crossed daintily. 

They stopped at her parent’s house first, who gushed over how beautiful the pies looked and promised to deliver Robb’s when he stopped by the next day. They went to Theon’s next, who made a ‘disgusting’ (according to Sansa) American Pie reference when he saw his apple pie, which earned him a halfhearted smack on the arm from Sansa and a quickly disguised chuckle from Jon.

When they stopped at Margaery’s, she appraised them with an arched eyebrow before accepting her pie gracefully and promising to share it with her brother so that she wouldn’t eat the entire thing in one sitting. 

When they were finally heading home, Sansa turned to face him. “Did you see the look Margaery gave us when we walked in?”

“What look?”

“She looked at us so weirdly. Like, I didn’t realize it was strange for friends to do things together.” He could hear her eyeroll in the tone she used and he patted her on the leg softly. “I know Robb just moved out two weeks ago and we don’t do a lot of stuff together yet…”

“There, there, Sansa. Heaven forbid we be friends.” He turned to her, still laughing, to see her softly smiling back at him, his hand now just resting on her thigh. 

“I’d like to be friends,” she said, some vulnerable in her voice, and he felt her hand on top of his, soft and warm.

“I’d like that too.” 

Neither of them moved their hands until they pulled into their driveway, the silence between them slightly awkward. 

“So,” she stilted out, “Wanna go eat that pie now?”

“Yes, please.”

They ate half the pie in one sitting, giggling as the berries stained Jon’s lips purple, and he couldn’t remember feeling so happy in a long time.


	2. April 27 - Arbor Day

Jon had just changed out of his khakis and button down, intending to take Ghost for a walk before dinnertime, when he heard the unmistakable rumble of a diesel truck. 

“What the fuck, Theon?” he muttered under his breath before stomping to the front door, Ghost winding around his feet. Sansa wasn’t home yet, and Jon didn’t plan on spending a Friday night with Theon screaming at the TV and drinking all the beer in his fridge. 

He swung the front door open to find Theon’s monstrous truck in his driveway. Jon only made it four steps down the sidewalk before he heard a telltale giggle and a flash of red hair from the passenger window. 

He swore under his breath before loping over to Sansa, who was just hopping down from the passenger side.

“Why is Theon bringing you home?” Jon questioned, as Theon waggled his fingers at him from the driver’s side.

“I had an errand to - oof!” she grunted as Ghost ran right into her, nearly knocking her to the ground, “an errand to run, and he was so kind to lend me his truck.” Sansa was all flashing grins and tossing her hair now, and Jon ground his teeth a little. 

“Why couldn’t you use your car?”

“I can’t fit trees in _my_ car, Jon!” 

“Trees?” Jon asked stupidly. 

“Yes, Jon, trees. It’s Arbor Day!” 

“Who the fuck celebrates Arbor Day?”

“We do, Jon,” she said, rolling her eyes as if he was an idiot before walking to the back of the truck. “The environment is important, and some idiots want to destroy it, so we can all do our part by planting one tree each on Arbor Day. Here’s yours!” She shoved a very small tree at him, showering his feet in dirt, and he scowled at her.

“You want to plant trees. Tonight.”

“Right now, big guy,” Theon said, lifting a shovel out of the bed of the truck. “If Red wants to plant some trees, we plant some trees.” 

The two of them were facing him, wearing matching grins, and Jon finally shrugged. “Let’s plant some fucking trees.”

As he dug out a hole for his tree (“One for each of us!” Sansa had squealed) Jon almost wished he had never agreed to move in with Sansa.

Sure, there were some perks. She tended to bake when she was stressed out, so about once a month there was a pile of cookies or brownies or a pie on the counter. She always sang in the shower, and her voice was a lovely, raspy alto that he never heard any other time. And she was way better about keeping up on the chores than he was, although he tried his best to clean on the weekends. 

Robb had lived in the duplex with them for the first three months, and things were easier then. There was a buffer between them, and Sansa hardly noticed that Jon seemed to watch her a bit more than was necessary or normal for roommates. 

But then Robb had moved in with his girlfriend Jeyne, and Sansa didn’t want to move, so she and Jon stayed. There was talk of finding a third roommate for a while, but neither of them knew anyone looking for a place and Arya crashed in Robb’s old room sometimes, so they just kept it to the two of them. 

And their two dogs, of course, so that made four.

The only downside was that he was still hung up on her. 

Jon wiped sweat off his forehead, finally setting his shovel aside. Ghost was helping Sansa to dig her hole, showering her in dirt and sticks, but she was laughing all the same. 

“Where’s Lady, Sansa?” Theon asked, wearing his signature smirk. 

“She’s in the backyard,” Jon interrupted. “I let her out when I got home.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” Sansa beamed at him, patting Ghost on the head as he paused his digging to gnaw on a stick he’d unearthed. “Once we’re done with the trees, we could go for a walk!”

“Sure, Sans,” Jon agreed, planting his tree and its attached mound of dirt into his hole. “They could use a bit of a run.”

“Theon, do you think you could take the shovels home with you? We don’t have any place to store them,” Sansa said apologetically, while batting her lashes just a little. Jon wanted to roll his eyes at that too, but he wouldn’t protest any excuse to make Theon leave.

“Sure thing, darling,” Theon leered, his eyes trained directly on Sansa’s ass as she patted the dirt down around the trunk of her tree.

Apparently Theon didn’t remember the shed they had in the backyard, or Jon thought that conversation might have ended a little differently. 

Ten minutes later, Theon was finally backing his monstrosity of a vehicle out of their driveway and Sansa was scratching Ghost behind the ears vigorously, the dog eating it up as if Jon never petted him. 

“So, that run…” Jon hedged, hands in his pockets. “I can go get Lady and their leashes if you want to keep playing with Ghost.”

“Thanks, Jon!” she didn’t even look up from the dog’s lazy, satisfied face before Jon turned on his heel and went inside, grabbing their two leashes before calling Lady in and clipping hers on. 

They were both a bit covered in muck and dirt, but Jon didn’t care. Her hair was still gleaming in the late afternoon sun, and the smear of dirt on Sansa’s cheek only highlighted how pale her skin was. 

They set out at a jog along the sidewalk, following a route they ran at least twice a week in the warmer months. 

After about half a mile, they took a break to let the dogs walk for a bit, and Sansa turned to him. “I left my car at work so that I could bring those trees home. Can we swing by and grab it tonight?”

“Of course,” he agreed, loving the way her eyes lit up when he responded so readily. “After dinner, maybe? I’m starving.”

“Oh, the tragedy of manual labor!” Sansa giggled, stopping to let Lady sniff at someone’s shrub.

“I didn’t know you loved Arbor Day so much.” Jon cut his eyes over to her, where she at least had the decency to blush.

“Growing up, my mom always celebrated the smaller holidays with us. I think it was her way of saying everything is important. So now, I like to celebrate them all too.”

“It is good for the environment to plant trees,” Jon admitted, and she smiled softly at him. 

“So, we can make this a tradition, then? A tree every year?” 

_A tree every year. Does this mean she plans on spending years with me?_ He might have been overthinking it, but the very idea made him warm. 

“It’s a tradition.” 

She beamed at him happily. “I think the pups are ready to go. Wanna race?” 

She took off into a sprint, Lady happily leading the way while Jon stumbled to catch up, Ghost more interested in a passing bug than anything else.

By the time they got home, they were both covered in sweat and the dogs were panting tiredly. 

“I’ll set out some water for them and start on dinner if you want to shower,” he offered.

“I don’t want to shower yet.” She unclipped Lady from her leash and then Ghost, laying the leads on the table before stepping closer to him. “Did you mean it when you said it could be a tradition?”

“Of course, Sansa. I’d be happy to plant a tree with you.”

“Every year?” she tested, her eyes trained on his. 

His gaze was unwavering as he took her in. Even covered in sweat, hair falling out of her ponytail, she was radiant. Her yoga pants clung to her ass and her tank top to the curve of her waist, and he could see her hands shaking slightly. 

“Every year.” 

He closed the gap between them and wrapped his arm around her waist, too aware of how quickly she was breathing. Her eyes hadn’t left his, and they were too close together now to turn back.

He barely had time to think before she pressed her lips to his, a quick press but sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. 

“You promise?” she whispered, her lips barely brushing against his with the words.

“I promise.”


	3. June 18 - International Picnic Day

Sansa had a wicker basket slung over her left arm and Lady’s leash on her right, the sun pouring down around them, her sundress loose in the light breeze, and Jon knew then and there he was hopelessly in love. 

She had proclaimed that morning that they had to have a picnic that day, because it was International Picnic Day (like he was supposed to know that already) and so here they were, in the middle of the park, with Sansa skipping ahead of him and the dogs running circles around each other. 

When she finally settled down on the ground, spreading a blanket beneath them that was large enough that the dogs could day down too, Jon opened the basket with a grin and a flourish.

Sandwiches, fresh fruit, cut veggies, chocolate chip cookies, and lemonades were passed between the two of them, Sansa taking the time to pour out a bottle of water into the bowl for the dogs, and then they dug into their lunch with excitement.

“I think I could get used to this holiday,” Jon moaned around a bite of his sandwich, happy to hear her laugh. 

“This is one of my favorites,” she confessed, twisting the cap off of her lemonade. “It’s the perfect time of year for a picnic, Lady always loves going for a run in the park afterwards, and now I have excellent company to join me.”

“Just excellent, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck.” She pelted a grape at his chest and he raised his hands in the air in mock surrender.

Sansa was stroking Lady softly, running her fingers through the dog’s thick fur, and Jon couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Her skin was just barely tanned by the sun, her hair pulled up in a braid to keep it off her neck, and Jon couldn’t help but picture all the times he’d seen her with her hair a mess, only in pajamas, right after a shower. 

She looked like a goddess just as much then as she did now, her dress tucked around her knees and her dog wrapped around her protectively. Jon leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, enjoying the flush that spread across her skin and the way her hand came up to stroke his jaw.

Their relationship had been progressing slowly despite the fact that they’d been living together, and they had done little other than cuddling on the couch and careful, slow makeout sessions. He longed for more, yet would never dream of pushing her past her comfort zone.

However, Jon could admit to himself that here, today, he very much wanted to rip her sundress off and lick the sunlight from her skin. 

They lazed in the grass for a time after they’d finished eating, Sansa absorbed in her book and Jon absorbed in her. It wasn’t until Lady and Ghost began to snap and chase after each other that they decided their picnic time was over, taking the dogs on a quick and quiet walk around the park before they all loaded back into the car to head home. 

While Jon was unloading the containers into the sink, Sansa snuck up behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her face pressed into his back. 

“I had a good time today,” he heard, muffled into his shirt, and he leaned back into her arms. 

“I did too, Sans.”

“Do you still think my little holidays are stupid?” Her voice was teasing, but he could sense that she truly meant it. 

“I never thought they were stupid,” he said honestly. “I love helping you celebrate.”

“I do too.” 

He turned in her arms to face her, tipping her chin up slightly so that he could slant his mouth against hers hungrily. Her hands were warm on his hips, thumbs slipping just underneath the hem of his shirt, and he wondered if he could taste heaven on her tongue as she slid it into his mouth.

She pulled away too soon as usual and Jon hummed slightly as she burrowed into his chest, rubbing her back gently, dishes forgotten in the sink.


	4. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut is at the end of this chapter - you've been warned!

Christmas in the Stark family was a grand affair. 

Sansa never missed an opportunity to bake, and Jon was awake with her until midnight the night before putting the final touches on her mini lemon tarts, a pumpkin pie already waiting in the fridge. 

Jon couldn’t imagine what the holidays were like when Sansa and her siblings were children - with the five of them all running around, it’s a miracle that Catelyn never lost her mind. Now that they were older, though, the family size nearly doubled during the holidays.

Robb had Jeyne, of course, who’d been coming to holiday gatherings for the past three years and was an old pro at navigating mealtime. Sansa brought Jon, who had attended a family dinner or three over the course of his friendship with Robb, but had never seen the full holiday affair.

Arya brought Gendry this year, the boy she insisted she wasn’t dating for the past year (even though Jon caught them making out in his car one night and was sworn to secrecy), and Bran brought Jojen, who was quiet in a peculiar way and spent most of the afternoon curled up silently on the loveseat with Bran. 

Rickon was the only one who was still too young to have a serious partner for Christmas, and Jon tried to make up for it by camping out next to the TV while Sansa was helping in the kitchen and giving him a hand on whatever game he was playing. 

He and Sansa had been dating for seven months now, yet the time had flown faster than Jon could have imagined. They were still moving achingly slow (and the shower could attest to that) but he was happy just to hold her hand most days.

The first time she had gone down on him, he thought the very stars exploded in his mind. She was hesitant and soft and sweet, eyes wide and nervous when she pulled his pants down, and he had stroked the back of her neck and encouraged her to use her hands and when he finally came, it was onto his own chest when she jerked back with a gasp. 

That was a month ago and he longed to be able to touch her in return. Although he had dated Ygritte for a year, they had never gone all the way because of how much pressure she put on him. Sansa was different, even more hesitant than he was at times. 

There had been light petting for months now, but nothing more, and Jon was more than ready to show her how much he cared for her in more ways than just saving her the last of the ice cream and making sure her towel was warm after her shower.

Sansa had been so distracted the past few days, he assumed with figuring out the last of the Christmas gifts. She was on her phone way more than usual, but Christmas was stressful for her, and so he didn’t give her any grief about it. Maybe after the holidays were over…

******

Sansa was officially panicking. 

She had spent more time than was typical Googling how to be good at sex. It was ridiculous, she knew, but Jon didn’t know she was a virgin and she didn’t want him to figure it out from how terrible she was going to be in bed.

Margaery insisted that he wouldn’t care about any of that if he got to see her naked, but Sansa didn’t believe her, seeing as she’s also the one who said “Just wrap yourself in ribbon and let him unwrap you, that’ll be more than enough for his heart to explode out of his chest.”

Instead of the ribbon, she bought herself a blue babydoll set with a matching thong and hoped that she would be bold enough to put it on.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jon. She did. He had never once in the seven months they were dating brought up sex or the lack thereof. They happily moved at her pace, even though a turtle would have beaten her easily.

She had snuck into the kitchen the second they arrived at her parent’s house that afternoon, but dinner was over and presents had been exchanged and before she knew it she and Jon were headed back home, car all packed and her heart twisting in her chest.

She was excited as well as nervous, but they all combined into a strange mass in her chest. The only thing she was one hundred percent sure about was that she wanted to do this with Jon. 

They peeled off to their separate bedrooms once the car was unloaded and she changed into the lingerie, heart pounding in her chest before she walked across the hallway to knock on his door lightly.

When he called for her to come in, she pushed the door open to see him already dressed for bed in a loose tshirt and athletic shorts, laptop resting against his knees casually.

It was a long ten seconds before he looked up from the screen, his mouth falling open when he took her in. 

“You look…” he trailed off, licking his lips, “amazing.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her throat dry, and he shut his laptop and tossed it off the bed haphazardly.

Sansa took tiny steps forward, her heart pounding away, until she stood between his legs, with him looking up at her reverentially. She combed her fingers through his hair once, twice, trying to calm her shaking nerves, when he pulled her down to sit next to him.

“You truly look wonderful,” he told her hoarsely, and she wasn’t imagining the fact that his eyes seemed to be having trouble staying in any one place. They bounced from her face to her chest to her legs, left mostly bare by the short skirt, and he kept licking his lips in such a way that she thought he might have been nervous too.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward and kissed him hard, refusing to overthink it for another moment. 

It was a slow, tangled slide of lips, his hands brushing her hair down her back while she actively let hers wander down his front. When her hands slid underneath his shirt he moaned into her mouth, and she took that moment to tug the hem upwards until she could pull it over his head, only mussing his curls further. 

This was familiar territory for them - the dance of lips and tongue and teeth, her hands roaming over his upper half while he stroked her back. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to pull her own top off either, Jon letting out a surprised, happy groan to see so much of her exposed at once.

His thumbs tickled down her sides as she grasped the back of his neck, pulling their chests flush against each other as her body began to warm with desire. She could practically feel the heat trickling up her chest to her neck, her hands digging into his back, sliding all the way down to fuss with the waistband of his shorts.

He pulled away from her carefully as she tugged on the elastic, his chest heaving yet his eyes searching hers carefully. When she nodded, eyes locked on his, he laid down so that she could pull the fabric over his hips, leaving him bare in front of her. 

She had never seen him entirely naked before, and she took her time taking him in, stretched out on top of the coverlet. His arms were nicely shaped as they propped his head up, and his chest and stomach were smooth and soft, a dark trail of hair leading downwards to where his cock stood in the air, twitching slightly under her gaze.

He held his arms out to her, bottom lip trapped between his teeth and she laid down with him, stroking up and down his chest with the lightest of touches. 

“I need to tell you something,” he murmured, and her hand stilled instantly, fear clenching around her heart.

His hand came up to stroke her hair before he continued. “I am ready for anything you are, love, but I think you should know beforehand… that you’re my first.”

He had finished in a whisper, his voice close to cracking, and Sansa tilted her head upwards to meet his eyes. 

“Me too,” she managed to whisper into his ear, and a soft smile spread across both their faces in unison.

What Sansa remembered most about the next hour was the way he stroked her body, how slowly they progressed from kissing to touching to making love. He spent what felt like hours rubbing his cock against her folds, covering his entire length in her wetness while one hand stroked over her clit, keeping her squirming against him. 

When she finally nodded at him, her hand tangling with his to guide his cock inside her, their lips met with equal fervor. His thrusts were slow and gentle, just enough of his weight pressing down around her to make her feel safe, and when she locked her ankles around his back and sighed, the feeling couldn’t get better for either of them.

Afterwards, Sansa tangled herself in his sheets, her face buried in the crook of his neck happily. 

“I only have one request,” she felt rather than heard, a rumble from his chest, and she murmured something soft in response.

“Can we sleep together tonight?”

“Of course,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his skin, and he burrowed closer to her, their bodies intertwined in his narrow bed.


End file.
